Page 22

Story: Bloody Wedding

For Loni to mention her childhood friend so easily, I’d bet she has no idea what Haven went through last year. All of my research tells me that their friendship ended when Loni ran so it wouldn’t surprise me if she didn’t know.

Should I tell her?

No, I decide. Let her get comfortable with me first. Then, if she decides she wants to be part of the Order again for good, I’ll call up Connor and call in a favor. For now, though, I decide to be honest with my wife.

After all, the best marriages start off with a tenet of honesty. That’s why one like my parents have, or Jack and Aunt Reese had, are always doomed to fail…

“I never wanted Haven, Loni. No other Offering, either, and definitely not any of the Used.” A hint of doubt creeps into her tired, guarded expression. Suddenly, there isn’t anything I won’t do to see that doubt erased. “I will make this as clear as I can: today was no accident. I only ever wanted you.”

And now I have her.

Her distrustful eyes go even wider than before. “Don’t tell me that the last time you got laid was?—”

“Of course not. And I know the same is true for you. But that was just sex, princess. What we had… what wehave…is so much more than that.”

I’ll make sure of it.

My wife doesn’t seem to agree.

“You made my life hell, Adrian. I thought I got away… that Iescaped. But, look at you now… you’re doing it again.”

“Oh, Loni. Call it that if you must, but I never stopped.” And she’ll figure that out sooner or later. “But that’s the past. Put it where it belongs: behind us.” I step closer to her, getting rid ofthe gap existing between us. “We have the rest of our lives to look forward to.”

I’m ready to forget the past. To forget the mistakes I made, and the long, lonely years in between.

I am.

I don’t think she is.

Wrapping her hands around her middle, ignoring the darkish brown blood stains, she says to me, “You really want me to believe that you waited all this time for me?”

She’s not letting this go. Fair enough.

I think back.

“Four years,” I finally answer.

Her pretty forehead furrows. “What?” She nibbles her bottom lip again, a temptation if I ever saw one. Her taste lingers in my mouth, but I’m dying for another hit. “Four years? Is that how long we have to stay married before I can go?”

She can’t honestly believe that.

Sure, there are some arranged marriages between Owed and their Offerings that end amicably. No divorce, of course. They’ll still be married in the eyes of the Order, but they can live separate lives on their own.

That won’t be us, and I make sure she knows it.

“Oh, I’m never letting you go,” I tell her, my tone light though my words are a fucking promise. “I was just telling you exactly how long I’ve been specifically waiting for you. Four years.”

Almost to the day.

I was twenty-five. Loni had just turned the same age. It was her birthday, and I was feeling melancholy, missing her. In between clients, I was obsessively stalking her social media pages when I noticed that she posted a picture with a guy.

There was a caption: “Our hard launch as a couple”, followed by a comment he added beneath it that said,happy birthday, babe.

I almost smashed my phone to bits, throwing it against the nearest wall of my office.

I knew that face. That smarmy face belonged to a gym bro with dark blond hair who worked with my Loni. I was assured theirs was just a co-worker relationship, that there wasn’t anything between Loni and Bradley.

Maxwell and Dimitty’s has a very firm “no fraternization” policy; I know because, when Stephen approached them on my behalf to form a partnership with the Owed, I had them add it. So, once I cooled down, I made a few phone calls.